A Week in Guatemala -- the translator that prayer brought my way

Here we are in action.  You can tell by our hair that a fan (thank you, Lord) is blowing.

Dear Cely, on our 2nd morning together, outside the church in Tecun Uman -- a natural sauna if there ever was one.  Can you tell that my skin is already "glistening?"  :) 

Cely and me after our last teaching session together.  What a treasure she was for me!

A few weeks before I left for Guatemala, my friend Lauren Cox told me that God had impressed on her to pray for the whole translation process while I was teaching and specifically for the person who would be my translator.  I was a little perplexed by this because translation had never been a big issue before, but I knew there must be a reason for God to prompt her like this.  And, besides, I'd never been called on to teach so extensively on a mission trip before.  

Since I had decided to teach the book of Esther to the ladies in the 8 churches that would be represented for the conferences, I asked for the pastor there to find a female translator for me.  After all, it would be women learning about a woman and even discussing what in the world a eunuch was, etc. etc.  You get the picture.

Well, at first a woman named Carol was designated.  I communicated with her by e-mail a few times before I left and was struck by the fact that maybe her English wasn't quite as good as it needed to be for the intense study I had planned.  But, I knew Lauren was being led to pray specifically.

When we arrived, Carol was the first friendly face that we saw once we cleared customs, and I liked her a lot.  However, that night at dinner she told me that her husband (a doctor in the area who works at several clinics) was recovering from typhoid fever and that she needed to go with him to several follow-up appointments in the coming days and wouldn't be able to translate for me.  Hmmmmmm.  She thought that Edwin, our van driver, would do a good job.   Hmmmmmm.  Even though Edwin had spent quite a few years in the States and had a good grasp of English, did he REALLY want to talk to women ABOUT women (and eunuchs) for the next 4 days????  Hmmmmmmm.  I was determined that I would not lose any sleep over this situation.

By the next morning, Pastor Otto (the coordinator for our week's work) had secured the help of Cicely Joachin, one of his faithful church members, and told me that she would be my translator.  I met her, and we chatted happily during the short trip from Coatepeque to Tecun Uman.  She introduced herself as "Cely," so that's who she was to me the rest of the time.  She obviously understood me well and was very familiar with the book of Esther.  Like so many others, she had spent quite a few years in the States, and besides that, she is just a very smart, dedicated, Christian lady with a servant's heart.  The first day there were a few stumbles and stutters by both of us as we established a rhythm and searched our brains for synonyms when the first words didn't "compute," but by the second day, she honestly could have taught the material without me.  She seemed to anticipate what I was going to say and how I was going to say it.  We made an awesome team!!!!  

As I watched the situation unfold and resolve itself so beautifully, I understood in a powerful and unmistakable way why God had prompted Lauren and how He worked everything out to perfection.

Cely has two beautiful daughters.  She and her husband own an internet business in the middle of Coatepeque.  When you finish reading this blog, I hope you will pray with me (and with her) that her husband will receive Christ as his Savior.

A Week in Guatemala -- Food

Scrambled eggs, fried plantains (a large, sturdy type of banana), refried black beans, a small piece of fresh, white cheese, and a tortilla.  This is what the hotel served for dinner, the "plato tipico" or typical meal/plate.

Two fried eggs, fried plantains, refried black beans, a small piece of white cheese,  some salsa, a piece of bologna-like meat.  The tortillas were in a bowl at the top of the picture.  This is what the hotel served for a typical breakfast.  In reality, the only difference was how you wanted your eggs cooked.  That simplifies things quite a bit, doesn't it?  Imagine how short our grocery lists would be if we served the same things for breakfast and dinner. . . and maybe even lunch :)  

This is called  paches.  It consists of chicken and potatoes that have been steamed/baked inside a banana leaf.  This was my first time to try this dish, and I can assure you it was quite tasty.

Never fear.  We did eat other things at lunch time -- usually hamburgers with "no lechuga, no tomate" (no lettuce and no tomatoes -- you can't risk raw vegetables when you have a gringo stomach).  Of course, we stuck to bottled water or canned/bottled drinks, too.

One of our many funny times came on Thursday when Joe Teal, Steve, our van driver Edwin and I went to a place called Pollo Campero.  It is a popular chain in Guatemala and had the cleanest restroom I found during the whole week.  The waiter told us that they were having a 2 for 1 special on pizzas that night (yay, we can save some money), so Edwin asked how long it would take to cook them (since we had to be at the church pretty quickly).  He came back and said we couldn't have pizza because the ovens weren't turned on.   ???????

So then, Joe said he'd have the 3 chicken strips meal, and the waiter said, "Nobody orders the 3-strip meal."  ?????  So Joe said, "Can I order the 4-strip meal?"  And the waiter said, "Sure."  ???????  

Obviously, something was lost in the translation.  :)

A Week in Guatemala -- a few sights around town

This hospital (yes, hospital) was directly across the street from the little hotel where we spent our nights.   It's actually a large property with a huge courtyard when you see it closer.  This is just one of the entrance gates.  The church people in Coatepeque have a ministry in this place and go several times a week to take coffee and encouragement to those waiting with their loved ones, especially in the children's ward.  The mothers have to sleep on the floor next to their sick children, so the church women made some pallets to make them more comfortable.  Sadly, there are often so many children that they have to put two in the same bed.

The yellow building with the orange stripes is the Kamali Vic Hotel where we stayed.  Interestingly -- and revealingly -- there are funeral parlors on both sides of the hotel and two more within one half block.  Remember, this hotel is facing the hospital.  Do you notice the person riding the motorcycle?  Do you see anything missing?  A helmet, maybe??  There were hundreds of motorcycles being driven in this town, and we didn't see a single helmet.  

I thought you might enjoy this little picture.  $464.90 dollars for 13.67 gallons of gas???   No, not quite.  The unit of currency in Guatemala is the quetzal (which also happens to be the national bird).  The exchange rate while we were there was 7.65 quetzales (they call them Q's) per dollar.  So, the total bill here is actually $61.17 American dollars or $4.47 per gallon.  Higher than here.  Which begs the question -- how can they afford to drive anywhere when their salaries are so much lower than ours?  It also explains the prevalence of motorcycles.

A Week in Guatemala -- April, 2012 (Some of the natural scenery)

A field of sugar cane.  Notice the mountain/rock formation in the background.  The locals refer to  this as The Sleeping Lady.  Imagine that she's lying face up and her nose is sticking out in the formation on the right.  Can you see her now?

We stopped to ask for directions, so I made a quick picture of this family set up to sell coconuts on the side of the road.  

A new sight for me was passing mile after mile of rubber  trees.  Notice the small cups attached near the bottom.  White liquid latex is dripping into them.  Earlier in the day a worker had cut a strip of bark in the tree, and the latex immediately started oozing out.

Guatemala shown in the middle near the bottom is actually Guatemala City, the capitol where the main airport is.  Our work was done primarily in the province of San Marcos on the western border near Mexico.  We were in the towns of Coatepeque and Tecun Uman.

This relatively small country produces so many crops.  I would guess that sugar cane and rubber are the main exports, but they also grow tons of bananas, coffee beans, pineapples and coconuts.  Probably the most delicious thing I tasted all week was a pineapple/banana smoothie.  Oh my!  Heavenly!

There are two seasons -- dry and rainy -- but for me, both of them are hot.  We were there at the very end of the dry season.  When Steve was in Guatemala last October, it rained constantly, and their main concerns were mudslides and washed out bridges and roads.  This time we wiped perspiration and swatted mosquitoes.

The Things We Grandparents Get to Do for Fun . . . and because of love.

In a recent 10-day period, Steve and I got to host an Easter lunch, supper and egg hunt for 5 of the grands, their parents, and a couple of friends. We drove 9 hours to Ft. Smith to have a "hotel spend-the-night-party" with 2 more and celebrate a birthday. And, we had 2 of the girls for a whole day of music and art activities. I must admit to feeling envy at times for my friends whose grandchildren live in the same town and they get to attend every ballgame or school program. We only have one in an organized ball team, and he lives in Arkansas. We're lucky to make even ONE of his games. We missed seeing Luke and Seth during this particular 10-day period, but I've been invited to go and keep them for 4 days in a few weeks while their parents attend a conference so "it's all good." We are blessed to be able to "go, see, and do" when it comes to these grandchildren who are such tremendous blessings in our lives. We're determined to make the most of each opportunity and to try our best not to whine when we don't see them enough. :)

Allie and Maggie are SERIOUS egg hunters. Granddaddy Steve hid 84 that day. We've found about 70 so far, so I'm guessing eggs will continue to turn up until this time NEXT year.
Penelope is making sure her eggs are still safely in the sack.
Rosie is much more interested in the jellybeans INSIDE the eggs than in the actual search for more. Did you notice that all 4 girls were wearing the same dress style? Aren't they cute?
Samuel couldn't exactly find his own eggs, but he enjoyed the show of watching his sisters and certainly looked spiffy in his tie.
Five days later we drove to Ft. Smith, AR to visit Megan, Nathan and their parents. We stayed at their house just long enough to hug their Momma and grab their suitcases because we were going to have them all to ourselves for the night while their parents had a leisurely date without the babysitter-meter running. After checking in and getting "the lay of the land," we found a nearby park and got busy getting some exercise. (Translation? Being sure everyone would be good and tired when bedtime arrived. Ha!) When Megan (above) sticks out her tongue, you can be sure that determination is in her mind. :)
Whoever thought of side-by-side slides must have had multiple children. Great idea!

After enjoying the park, we headed to a pizza place and got our tummies full. Mealtime conversations can be so revealing and provide so much laughter when no one is in a hurry and when the goal is communication and memory-making. Agree?

By the time we got back to the hotel, got cleaned up and in our comfy PJ's, it didn't take but a few minutes of cartoons to have the effect of a soothing lullaby. They were out like a light!
The next day we took Megan and Nathan back home so we could spend time with their parents, too, and got to celebrate Nathan's birthday a couple of weeks early. He and his Mom have been studying geography a lot in their homeschool sessions, so each of these cupcakes had a different country's flag on top. Nathan got to distribute them. "Here, Grandmomma, you can have France and Israel. Granddaddy, here's Kenya and Germany. Megan, you can have the United States." We were VERY impressed!

We left early the next morning to make the long trip back. We always leave wanting more time but knowing that they have busy lives and need to get back to their normal routines. It's worth every mile put on the car. Thank goodness for my Prius! :)

Three days later it was time for the monthly Music and Art Day between Grandmomma, Allie and Maggie (we let Granddaddy join the fun when he has a few minutes). We got a special treat before we even started on our work for the day.
A whole parking lot full of antique cars were at a little cafe near our house called Geezburger. The owners had apparently decided to stop there for breakfast. We pulled in and got out to get a closer look at each one. They were all works of art in their own right.
Can you tell we studied Georgia O'Keeffe this time? It was fun to discover that she and Allie have the same birthday. :) We played our kazoos again (they want to be able to teach their cousins at Cousins Camp in July) and continued to build rhythm patterns -- this time with drinking straws. Maggie got to make another mosaic picture while Allie and I had a piano lesson. We have 3 duets ready whenever we can find a captive audience. So, beware. :)

I've been a grandparent for eleven years now, and I'm awed by how each child has enriched my life. They teach me so much and are the very best investments of my time/energy/resources that I can imagine. It is no wonder that God describes them as a "crown." Steve and I pray for each of them every day. We pray for hedges of protection around their hearts, their minds, and their bodies, we thank God for their health, their intelligence, their personalities and their Christian parents. We ask God for wisdom and insight into teaching them what God would have us teach. You who are fellow grandparents can totally relate. You who are future grandparents have joys coming your way that are "beyond all you could ask or imagine."

Easter Thoughts, 2012

Tomorrow is Easter Sunday. As you can see from the picture, I've been busy today getting everything ready for Julie's family and a couple of other guests to come for lunch and for hunting Easter eggs. You can see that I have the basket ready for Granddaddy Steve to hide them first. Afterwards, the grandkiddoes take turns. We're STILL finding some of the eggs that Maggie hid last year. She was SERIOUS about it. :) The cake in the center is supposed to look like a sunflower on top . . . if you have a good imagination. Yes, the petals are made out of Peeps, and the seeds are chocolate chips. Other than that, it's a "yellow cake with chocolate icing," so surely it will be a hit.

This is our first Easter since Steve's mom died. I found one of her recipes that was included in the cookbook that Central Baptist in Decatur put together a few years ago. Since many Easter memories for my children revolve around lunches and egg hunts at her house, it seemed appropriate somehow to fix her pork roast for tomorrow. It won't be as good as hers was, but maybe the flavors will be similar. It will be great to share the day with Julie, Brian and their 5 children, but, naturally, I wish ALL the kiddoes and grandkiddoes could be here too. They, however, are exactly where they need to be -- in their own churches (in faraway Arkansas :)), teaching their children the truths of Easter, and building memories of their own.

A big part of tomorrow's significance for me revolves around the first choir anthem that we will sing called "I Am." Among the words are these:

I Am the Root of David, the Bright and Morning Star.

I Am the Lion of Judah.

I Am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end.

I Am faithful and true. I Am the Word of God.

I Am the Spotless Lamb.

I Am the resurrection.

I Am alive forever.

I Am the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

I Am. I Am. I Am the great I Am.

On Wednesday night, January 22, 1986, my Mom practiced this anthem with her choir at First Baptist Church of Troy, AL. She came home that night raving about the wonderful song they had worked on and told my Dad how very much she loved it. She was an alto -- just like me.

The following Saturday morning, she suffered a brain aneurysm and on Monday night, January 27, she died. Exactly one week after she sang "I Am" at choir practice, that same choir filled the choir loft to overflowing and sang it for her funeral. I have heard the song several times since that day, but I've never been in a choir actually singing it myself . . . until tomorrow. In her memory and to the glory of Jesus Christ, I really want to be able to sing it. . . without weeping.

It has become abundantly clear to me as I've pondered this through the years that within seconds of her departure from her earthly life, she was in the presence of her Lord and Savior, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. She has spent the past 26 years singing praises and worshiping. I am convinced that when she has heard Jesus say, "I Am." She has answered with humility and gratitude, "Yes, You Are."

Good Friday Thoughts

Last night I had the privilege of participating in a Maundy Thursday service at my church. The format was simple and profoundly reverent. Each person came into a dimly lit sanctuary and could spend as little or as much time as they desired for silent prayer and meditation, and then the Lord's Supper was offered at the front with the help of our pastor and several deacons. During this time, various singers and instrumentalists were invited to play in a continuous flow of music with a theme of the cross. While waiting for my turn to play, I was able to do my own meditating and to watch the faces and the families as they came to the front. Each person approached their actions differently, but a definite sense of awe and sincerity was evident.

I played both of my selections and then made my way to the front to partake of the wafer and juice. The soloist after me began singing "How Beautiful," the inspired song written by Twila Paris. Just as I placed the wafer in my mouth, the following words were sung: "How beautiful is the body of Christ. And as He laid down His life, we offer this sacrifice -- that we will live just as He died: willing to pay the price, willing to pay the price." I was so struck by the reality that I had just tasted a representation of the body of Christ that I could hardly swallow because of the tears and the emotion that started to flow. I doubt that anyone other than our pastor noticed my struggle, but it was a moment of profound truth for me.

So many thoughts were stirred in those moments, many having to do with a particular Good Friday that we experienced in Ecuador -- specifically in the city of Cuenca. We knew that we wanted to try the traditional Viernes Santo (Good Friday) dish which is a soup made up of 12 different grains and dried fish. We had seen the ingredients for this fanesca prominently displayed at the markets for several days and had inquired about the best places to try it. We went. We ate. We were glad that was over. :) It certainly didn't resemble the good homemade vegetable soups we used to have at home or Bob Gibson's good ol' Brunswick stew, but it was edible. If it hadn't been for the dried fish, and if it had been served with cornbread, we might have liked it just fine. Oh well. At least we tried to "do as the Ecuadorians do."

Much more than eating fanesca, I will forever remember the atmosphere of Good Friday in Cuenca. Normally, it was a very noisy city. To drive there, you need three things: a steering wheel, an accelerator, and a horn -- but not necessarily in that order. Considering the massive numbers of taxis, buses, plus poorly-maintained trucks and cars on the roads, horns blow incessantly, brakes squeal, gears shift loudly. It's just accepted. Not so on Good Friday. For a large portion of the day, it was eerily quiet. Everyone spoke in whispers. Those who drove went slower, and the buses and taxis seemed to disappear. This predominantly Catholic culture was singularly focused on the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. I admired that, and it seemed "right" to me somehow. What didn't seem right, though, was the fact that when Easter Sunday rolled around, it was "business as usual." As a matter of fact, there were FEWER people in church on Easter than on a regular Sunday. That culture, as seen by the many statues of Jesus hanging on the cross in their churches, appears to think much more in terms of the Suffering Christ and His death on the cross than on His triumphant resurrection on the 3rd day.

I'm glad I've had a chance in the past couple of days to direct my thoughts to Calvary, and I have a lot of excitement about celebrating the risen Savior on Sunday morning.